


One Week

by curiouslyblessed



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6889189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouslyblessed/pseuds/curiouslyblessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever wondered what would happen if Q met Barclay? Will it be the worst week of Barclay's life or the best?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Week

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, yikes. It's been literal years since I wrote any fanfiction and published it. So forgive me if it needs a little spit and polish, I'll get the hang of it eventually. Hopefully, also, the chapters will get longer as I go.
> 
> Anyways, this story came about because I was watching the episode where Q becomes human and a thought hit me: "What if Q and Barclay met?" and that's where this came from. Fun, fun.

Lieutenant Reginald Barclay exited the holodeck with a hefty sigh. His holograms hadn’t been nearly as satisfying since Geordi and the others found out about them. Everything he created now felt flat and empty. He missed his old programs. They never failed to sooth his nerves at the end of the day. And if there was ever a week where he needed his nerves soothed, this was it. Geordi was leaning on engineering; putting them all through their paces in preparation for a visit from the Inspector General. It was shaping up to be the worst week of his life and it was only Sunday.

He passed two ensigns as he made his way through the halls. They didn’t respond to his half-hearted attempt at a hello; but as soon as they thought he was out of earshot, they dissolved into giggles. That was another worrying development. Ever since his holodeck habits had become public knowledge, the teasing comments and surreptitious laughter had gotten worse.

He slouched, shoving his hands into his pockets. The teasing and laughter were just more reasons to escape into the world of fantasy. Which brought him back to his original problem: his imagination was blocked. Now that everyone knew, he couldn’t think of any good premises for his programs; and even when he did, he couldn’t enjoy them without thinking about how everyone looked at him in the hallways. At least no one was calling him Lieutenant Broccoli anymore.

He was ten feet from his cabin door when he ran face first into a force field. It send him sprawling to the floor. He shook his head and staggered to his feet. There were force fields all over the ship, but this one was definitely out of place.

“You know, if you looked where you were going you could have avoided that altogether.”

Barclay turned. A man was leaning against the wall. He wore command red and a sardonic smile. “You really are the most pathetic creature I’ve ever encountered. And, you know, that’s saying something because I’ve seen some pathetic things. The current runner up to you is your captain when he’s in a sulk.”

“W-who are you? What d-do you want?”

“Haven’t you been keeping up with the times, dear boy? I am Q.”

“I-I’ve heard about you,” he took a nervous step backwards—straight into another force field.

“Good,” Q rubbed his hands together. “Then we can skip all those awkward introductions and get straight to the point: I am here to help you.”

“I d-don’t need your help!”

“Oh, listen to yourself. You’re a stuttering mess! Besides, didn’t I just tell you? You’re pathetic! All you do is mope around the ship with your head in the clouds,” he laid a seemingly sympathetic hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder. “What are you going to do with your life, Reg?”

Barclay flinched. How far had the story of his holodeck addiction traveled? “I already have my dream job,” he glanced fondly at his surroundings. “What else to I need?”

Q rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about your job, you ninny! Honestly,” he slung a casual arm over Barclay’s shoulders. “In case you hadn’t noticed, there are more things to life than work. Like this—”

Counselor Troi materialized. She smiled and wiggled her fingers at them. “Hello, boys.”

“Well, what do you think?”

Barclay’s eyes widened. “Why is she naked?”

“Why not?”

The lieutenant’s face reddened. “S-Send her away! She isn’t real!”

“Of course she isn’t real!” Q snapped his fingers and the vision disappeared. “Did you really think it was her? I may not know everything about Deanna Troi—and believe me, I would like to—but I know enough to guess that she wouldn’t take kindly to standing around naked in the corridors! She was an example, Broccoli, and ideal. And that is my point! You have no concept of the finer things in life. I serve up your wildest dreams on a silver platter and you tell me to send them away! What kind of a man does that?”

“I d-don’t want something that isn’t real!”

“Ugh. I should have know that you would want something more substantial than a mere illusion. After all, you’ve had that before,” Q winked. “But don’t worry, what I have to offer you is most certainly real. And don’t worry, you won’t be bored for much longer.” Q disappeared, leaving behind nothing but the lingering sound of his laughter and the faint scent of cloves.

Barclay swallowed. This did not bode well for his week.


End file.
